Suicide Machine

I fell into slavery, my jaundiced arms wrapped around
the suicide machine
I want to be disfigured in my dishevelled sanity
born again into a pleasant death
Oh how I dream
of the suicide machine
Oh how I need
the suicide machine
I fell into my broken mind and saw the truth
through distorted eyes
Breaking into a new life will leave me the scars of old
blood as black as tar
Oh how I dream
of the suicide machine
Oh how I need
the suicide machine
I want to be lacerated with each cut leading to where
my life went wrong
My soul is infected with the trivial disease of knowledge
to cleanse it to purify through virgin flames
All my idols have been killed and they reside
in the place I want to spend my weakling existence
forever lost and never to be found
Sounds good to me
I have my suicide machine
Oh how I dream
of the suicide machine
Oh how I need
the suicide machine
I can see the bright light
at the end of the tunnel
my suicide machine lead the way
My own life has lead up to this point


The End

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